nothings
by acciohome
Summary: He does not parade her with flowery words of "nothing"


**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, or any of the cannon characters mentioned. **

Rose Weasley didn't understand why Ashley Montoux, a pretty blonde witch in her house, always seemed to talk the night away about how she wants to just talk about 'nothing' with whichever boy she talked about.

"Nothing" Rose thought, "Why would anyone ever want to talk about 'nothing'?" The way Rose Weasley saw it, she could never have a conversation about 'nothing'. No, why on Earth would she want to do that. If she's going to talk to someone she wants to hold a conversation about something that would make her think, or laugh, or cry, or want to shout, but not about 'nothing', how absolutely boring. And people often said _she_ was drab.

The next month, a boy asked her to Hogsmead and she didn't have a very good reason to say no, so she said yes. The entire date was sat in at Madam Puddifoot's, and the entire time the boy whispered sweet nothings into the pale shell of her ear. She didn't like it, how could he tell her she's 'Such a beautiful person' when they were having their first proper conversation just that day? Didn't he realize that words mean something? Didn't he know that you shouldn't just throw them at people as if they're common things; at least not to a writer, not to a Ravenclaw, especially not to Rose Weasley. But he did, and they were useless nothings, so when he tried to kiss her she almost wanted to hex him.

They didn't go on another date.

Rose thought it was just _wrong_, to say things that you didn't earnestly mean. She thought it was horrid how her classmates would say things to each other and not really, honestly mean it. She realized that an awful lot of people seemed to talk about 'nothing'. Rose wasn't one to just fling words around, they're precious, and they mean something. She defiantly wanted to congratulate some of the boys in her class on their vocabulary; in fact she would if she wasn't positive most of them meant nothing by it. A few albeit did, and Rose thought they were the most beautiful words in the world. Of course they were only beautiful when they were _real_.

Two years later Rose made Head Girl, and she was proud. Proud of herself, because Head Girl is what she'd been working towards her entire school career and now she was and she couldn't be happier. She was so happy and proud she wanted to shout it from the rooftops. So on August 31, she did. Not very loudly, no, Rose wasn't a very loud person. In fact she wasn't much for saying anything at all. But did she know how to use words, oh did she know. She, after all, was a writer. And on August 31, the day before she would get on that scarlet steam engine, on her way to school, for the last time and, she went to climb her roof, in her little muggle town. She didn't exactly yell, it was more of a very loud whisper, but it was there. _"This won't just be nothing!" _

The year wasn't nothing.

She was Head Girl and Scorpius Malfoy was Head Boy, she had never taken time to speak to him before, she was very much Daddy's little girl. But she knew the young Malfoy boy, they had spent hours in the library together, never sitting together or really speaking to each other but they had always played this little game, to see who would leave first and Rose would often end up falling asleep. But she knew him. She knew that he was an artist (there's a certain sound that comes from writing, and more often than not his quill wasn't making it), though she'd never seen one of his drawings. She knew that he especially enjoyed transfiguration (he seemed to always being reading a book on that subject); he was very good in that class. She knew that he was never one for wearing shoes (he'd often take them off (that was fine because sometimes Rose did too)) and that his socks were always grey. She knew he was a dancer (She didn't go to the Victory ball in her sixth year but, his foot forever swayed to an imaginary beat).

The first two months of the year they didn't talk apart from meetings, and planning, though the common room turned into their library. One day Rose had knocked over a bottle of ink, like the ink, conversations seemed to just continue pouring out of them.

Scorpius was surprised at first; Rose Weasley was never very talkative. In fact, he's never seen her say very much at all. In their fifth year, he'd seen her on a date while he was on one himself and she didn't seem very comfortable, or say much as the boy continued whispering things in her ear, in fact she looked as though she'd rather not be there at all. He'd thought she was shy.

But conversations poured out of them; first about the ink (he's sure that it's the most interesting conversation he'll ever have about ink) she had spilled, then about why they both had different reasons for having so much of it. She was a writer; he'd often see her in the library sometimes writing things that didn't seem like they'd be essays. Sometimes she would look downright disgusted a the words she made on the page, other times crying and looking heart broken, sometimes she even looked blissfully happy, and other times like the words were killing her. She knew that he was an artist, because his quill made different sounds, than when he was writing an essay.

The days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, and Scorpius Malfoy is starting to think he might fall in love with Rose Weasley. Because they had conversations, conversations he's never had with anyone else, no other girl was as intellectual as Rose Weasley, and he'd decided months ago that he'd want to be intellectual equals in a relationship. Rose was more than his equal in some ways, in some ways less, and in some exactly. They complemented each other. He knew Rose Weasley was pretty, with long curly hair that was red. So very red. He'd bet the gold in Gringotts that her hair was as soft and delicate as she was. Now he'd begun to think of her as beautiful, gorgeous, maybe beyond that (no, defiantly beyond that), he couldn't deny that her eyes were the prettiest shade of brown he'd ever seen. He doesn't mind that she's rather thin and lanky; in fact he likes it (maybe because she especially likes that about herself).

They talk more every day and he tells her what he's never told anyone, how he doesn't at all want to work for his family, and how he's actually a painter (not just a drawer), and he tells her how much stress is on his shoulders to give the Malfoy family a good name again. How he understands that before they wanted power, and took it from anyone who could give it to them, but now he feels like his family just wants respect (or that's just what he wants). The next day he gives her a completely red canvas and tells her that it's her portrait. She laughs and hangs it in her room and she gives him a poem to read. He thinks it's absolutely beautiful, it makes him cry and he's never been quite this affected by words before.

After a while Rose is glad that she and Scorpius are friends and that he's never talked to her about nothing. She's glad that even though he probably doesn't see words the way she does, that he understands how much they mean, and she must say, he uses his words very well. They talk every day, like the ink bottle she spilled, conversations keep pouring out of them. She's quite certain she'll never get tired of talking to Scorpius Malfoy that he'll never speak to her with flowery words of nothing.

She really likes his hair, how it matches his personality in a way. The way it's blonde, but not the same blonde as his father she's told. It's much blonder, and at the ends, the ends are wonderful because she's certain that if he grew his hair out it'd fall into curly waves of (manly) blondness. She thinks his eyes are beautiful, because they're grey, almost like storm clouds. But not really, she's discovered that they're actually a bit blue (his mother's eyes are blue), and she's certain they're the most interesting color in the world.

Sometimes when they're studying he starts drawing, and he looks so content. She realizes he has a lazy heart (it's a strong, cunning, ambitious but nonetheless lazy heart) and that he draws as if he's dancing, swaying with every move and so carefree. Before they go to bed he gives it to her and it's a drawing that goes with her poem. It takes her breathe away because it's the first time she's ever thought art could be beautiful.

Another boy asks her to Hogsmead, so this weekend she doesn't go with Scorpius, she goes with the other boy because she has no reason to say no, so she says yes.

He's much more comfortable, he takes Rose to the three broomsticks and they talk about their friends, and family, and school over butterbeers. And Rose laughs, but then she thinks about how Scorpius can make her laugh more. So Rose begins to try and talk about other things, things her and Scorpius sometimes talk about and he doesn't have much to say. At the end of their date he leaves her with words of 'nothing' and she realizes that he's no Scorpius Malfoy, but maybe he's a good friend. She goes back to the common room after her and Scorpius talk about how they thought of each other before.

He tells her about how she thought she might have been shy, or maybe just never had nothing to talk about, and Rose almost shouts, "I could never have a conversation about 'nothing'! When I have a conversation with someone I want an intellectual one, or maybe a funny one, but I could never talk about 'nothing'! There's no depth, or humor, or sadness, or anger, or feelings in "nothing", so maybe that's why I've never said much, because I could never have a conversation about "nothing" who wants to talk about nothing?"

The school year is almost over; her school career is almost over. She doesn't particularly know what she wants to do; in fact she has no idea what she'll do after school is over. Scorpius is working and eventually he'll take over his family's company. And then Rose realizes that after school is done with she might not ever talk to Scorpius Malfoy again, and that scares her. And nothing has ever really scared her like this before. She tries to write about it but the lines read the same thing. Rose thinks she might love him, but she's not sure because she's never been in love before, she's read about people falling in love in the books that she loves, but she's never heard of an artist and writer being in love before.

Scorpius Malfoy knows that the year is almost over, and soon Rose might forget about him. That scares him, because he'll never be able to forget Rose Weasley and the conversations, and the trips to hogsmead, and the laughing (her laughing (her beautiful soul consuming laughing)), and her beautiful words. He knows he'll never forget Rose Weasley. And he spends the day in his room while she's out on her date (he's a bit jealous about it) and he realizes that he's fallen in love with Rose Weasley so this time she paints a proper portrait of her. It's from the day they spent writing and drawing by the Black Lake and she's laughing and clutching her notebook, she's got her knees up to her chest but she's laughing so much she's a bit more relaxed and he thinks she looks beautiful (he always thinks she looks beautiful). He decides to give it to her on graduation (and ask her on a date so they'll have at least one memory together after school)

Head Boy and Head Girl get their NEWT results first (they always get their NEWTS results first),Rose gets 9 _Outstandings_ and 3 _Exceeds Expectations _on her N.E.W.T.S_, _Scorpius tells her she should be proud of herself but she feels like she could have done better. And then her entire life is crashing down again the way it did when she was fourteen, and she feels so alone, like she's done everything wrong. Only this time Scorpius Malfoy hears her the first night when she's crying her eyes out. The sound absolutely breaks his heart.

Scorpius wants to hold Rose in his arms and tell her that she's perfect, and how much he loves her but she just keeps crying. And it's _awful_. He starts to cry too, and he feels like he can barely breathe (because he really is barely breathing) while he sits outside her door at night. She cries for days and all he can really do is sit there.

When she stops crying he likes to look into the room and see the broken girl lying there, he is in love with Rose Weasley and he'd never thought he'd see something so heart breaking. "Merlin Rose, you're breaking my heart." He manages to choke out of his hoarse throat.

Rose doesn't believe it. She doesn't believe it so she sits up, but she's never been brave and her head collapses in her hands again in a fit of broken sobs when she tries to ask him. "D- do— A- am I –any- an –anything, am I – a – a noth- nothing t- to y-y- you?"

This time Scorpius does take Rose in his arms, and for a minute he can't really breathe because he's crying again while she sobs, deep, terrible, awful, broken sobs into his shoulder. This time he does tell her he thinks she's beautiful and that he loves her. Rose cries harder and grasps at him, trying to be as close to him as she can because Scorpius Malfoy doesn't, he's never told her one word of 'nothing'. Everything from his smile to his paintings are the most beautiful and sincere thing in the world and now he's crying and telling her that he's in love with her, that he thinks she's beautiful. But he's the beautiful one.

The year wasn't nothing.

**A/N: Omfg I'm done. My first completed Rose and Scorpius fic, at 2,456 words! I'll probably be posting a lot of one-shots in the meantime while I finish up some of my multi-chapter fic works. A lot of them will be Rose and Scorpius! (: Review please for virtual hugs.~**


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